


A Favour for a Favour

by Galenfea



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galenfea/pseuds/Galenfea
Summary: Thranduil doesn't want a dragon in Erebor; he can only hope Thorin will accept an offer.Rewrite of the confrontation between Thranduil and Thorin in Mirkwood.
Kudos: 4





	A Favour for a Favour

Thranduil’s lip curled a little as he looked down at the dwarf. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. He remembered him well, standing beside his grandfather’s throne with a smirk on his lips as Thror demanded Thranduil pay him homage as a vassal.

Mirkwood needed Erebor, now even more than it had then. They were at war now, and they needed the armour and weapons the dwarves could provide. If Thorin had found some way to defeat Smaug and reclaim his kingdom… And surely that was his goal in some form or other. It would be suicide to take on a dragon with such a small, ill-prepared company, but there nonetheless was a possibility.

“You need not lie to me, Thorin,” he said, “I know what you seek: to reclaim your homeland. I understand that. But I am no fool and I do not believe you to be one. You do not seek to slay Smaug yet, but you seek that which would bestow upon you the right to rule, and to call an army to your side: the Heart of the Mountain. The _Arkenstone_.” He saw Thorin’s eyes widen as he spoke the word, and smiled. “Do I hit near the mark? Attempted burglary is your aim, I suspect, or something of that sort.”

Thorin didn’t respond except to set his jaw. Thranduil paced back and forth, still looking down at him. It would be of benefit to Mirkwood to slay Smaug and set an ally in his place, even a dwarf. He sighed. Especially a dwarf, much though it pained him to admit it.

“Is there a purpose to this meeting, Elvenking, or did you simply bring me here to intrude into my business?” asked Thorin.

“I…” Thranduil sighed again, the words sticking in his throat. “I offer you my help.”

“A favour for a favour?” asked Thorin, that familiar smirk crossing his face again. “What would you have of me?”

“I’m sure you recall the last audience I had with your grandfather.”

Thorin nodded.

“First: he had no right to demand homage of me and I would have your word that you will not set yourself up as overlord as he once did. Second: the white gems he refused to give me when I would not bend the knee before him were not his to keep. They… were mine.” They had been his wife’s, but he would never mention her to the likes of Thorin. “I will help you, if you but _return what is mine_.”

Thorin was scowling, but he said softly, “And why should I offer favours and promise anything to you? Because you offer help and friendship? I have seen how you treat your friends!” His voice began to rise. “We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help. But you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of my people and the inferno that destroyed us!” Now he was shouting and he jabbed a finger at Thranduil as he added, “Were there justice in the world, the dragon would have come to your door, and your woods would have withered in its flame!”

At that, Thranduil could no longer contain his rage. He closed the gap between himself and Thorin in two steps, bending to look the dwarf directly in the face.

“We were never friends,” he snarled. “Your grandfather saw us as his slaves, and I will not expose my people to dragon-fire for such a one!” He took a deep breath, controlling himself again as he stepped back, but his voice was still shaking as he said, “I warned him what his greed would bring, for I… I have seen the great serpents of the north.” He turned to walk up to his throne, doing his best to hide the pain that the memory caused him. “But he would not listen.” At the top, he once again turned to look down at Thorin. “You are just like him, and until I can be sure that you will not act like him, you will have no help from me.” He nodded to the guards, and as they started to drag Thorin to his cell despite his struggles, Thranduil called after him, “Stay here if you will, and rot! A hundred years is a mere blink in a life of an elf. I am patient. I can wait.”

Time in the dungeons would cool Thorin’s pride. Mirkwood needed Erebor, but Thranduil would do everything in his power to prevent another Thror from sitting on the throne.


End file.
